


To Ashes

by Edledhryn



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edledhryn/pseuds/Edledhryn
Summary: He was there, then gone in the blink of an eye. What grew and burned like fire, fell to ashes in seconds.





	To Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a friend as a birthday present. Enjoy. First posted on my roleplay blog a few years ago.
> 
> Highly recommend playing this song while you read: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8IrtEkWcBQ
> 
> Song lyrics are Breaking Benjamin's "The Ashes of Eden"

_Can you save me now?_  

No one had said it would be easy. No one had said it would be a walk in the park, a time so simple that it would coast long without problems. Yet that was what Saitou had expected. As darkness closed around him, he realized all too late that he’d been wrong. Nothing in the past five years was like what he had thought it would be. Everything had gone from good to great to devastating.

 _Cold._ The touch of winter sinking it’s claws into his legs and fingers. There was a faint, distant sound of sirens. There was a touch of warmth. Then more touches. Hot hands touching his face, brushing his hair back. The sound of voices. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

Then a voice cut in, one he recognized all too well. Opening his eyes, he could see Hijikata kneeling over him, the male’s large hands pressing to his hair and chin. “Saitou. Saitou, listen to me. I need you to keep your eyes open. Promise me you’ll do that.”

Everything felt as though he was moving through mud. He made to speak, but only garbled sounds came out. There were no words he could form. That’s when he realized, far too late, what was going on.

**Blood.**

_There was blood in his mouth._  

Slender fingers twitched, trying to move to grab at someone, anyone. Yet no movement came. The sound of crying captured his attention and he barely turned his head. The sight that greeted him tore at his heart. Yukimura, her clothing stained with blood splatters, sobbing over two bodies. At first his weakening sight didn’t register who they were. 

Then he spotted the red hair and the green headband. Tears began to form in his eyes as the knowledge hit him.

Sano and Shinpachi. They were gone. _Why_?

He couldn’t remember what had happened. Why was Yukimura covered in blood? Why was Hijikata speaking to him as though he was dying?

A shiver wracked his body, shaking him. He felt as though he were an outsider staring in, watching as hands grabbed at him. He was rolled onto his side, away from the bodies of his friends. Yet, on the opposite side, a similar sight greeted him. There, similarly unnaturally still and silent, lay Souji. The once vibrant green eyes stared into his, dull and quiet. The face that normally drew up into a smirk was blank, lax with the expression of death.

Had he been in control of his body, Saitou would’ve burst into tears. There would have been screaming. There would have been a fit thrown in agony. His best friend, the one he counted on for everything.

Souji. His lifeline. _Gone_.

 **Why**?

There were no answers for him. None. Nothing but the touch of ice and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. The sight of Hijikata over him and Yukimura sobbing across from them. The sight of his friends laying shattered and broken and lifeless.

After a moment, the shivers in his body stopped, and Hijikata lowered his head. For the first time since meeting him, Saitou watched as his boss broke into tears. The normally composed man openly let out a sob, sliding his hands down and around Saitou’s body. The younger male could feel the sobs shaking the ravenette’s body, his breathing rattling against Saitou’s ribs.

He wanted to comfort him. He wanted to put his arms around Hijikata’s waist and hug him close. He wanted to wipe away those tears and smile at him. Saitou never smiled. Never. But he would if it meant Hijikata stopped crying. Try as he may, the movement never came. It, like his breathing, was becoming impossible to do. The darkness was closing in tighter, yet he refused to give in to it.

He was just so tired. _Exhausted._ Each breath felt like it took a thousand years to come to him.

It had just occurred to him, as he stared up at Hijikata, that the man was bleeding. There was blood dripping down the side of his face. A drop fell, splattering onto Saitou’s cheek. Soft blue eyes closed, yet he opened them when Hijikata began to shake him again, “ _Saitou_ ! Don’t you **dare** close your damn eyes on me! Don’t you fucking do it!”

Strength was something he didn’t have. He wanted so desperately to ask Hijikata to let him sleep for a few minutes. _Just a few minutes_ , that’s all he needed. Then he’d wake up and help out. Soul would wake up too. If only they had a few minutes of sleep. They were just overworked, right?

There was a hand on his stomach, and after a moment, he realized it was his own. The round surface was cracked and splattered with blood. There were wounds, and as he thought about it, he realized that there was clearly something wrong. Where movement should have been, there was none.

Panic set in. His fingers clenched slowly against his stomach, head rolling to the side. Hijikata’s sad eyes met his own gaze. The ravenette shook his head, gently cupping Saitou’s hand to his stomach.

In his chest, Saitou felt the agony burst again. First Sano and Shinpachi, then Souji, and now this? **_Why!_ **

There was no sense to this. No sense to anything going on. What had happened. Why were his friends dead? Why had everything he had worked so hard for just been yanked from his hands?

The sirens were glaringly loud now, and he realized that his head had been hurting for some time now. He realized that everywhere on him hurt. Everything, from his head to his chest and stomach down to his legs. It also occurred to him that the warmth he somehow felt through the icy touch of what he thought was winter was blood. 

 _His own blood._  

**_He was laying in a pool of his own blood._ **

Above him a face appeared, one he didn’t recognize. The person donned a white uniform, and, as he kneeled, it became stained crimson. Saitou felt sick to his stomach. The color of his own blood made him nauseous. He closed his eyes again, overcome. This time it was harder to open them when Hijikata yelled at him.

For some reason, Hijikata’s voice was growing further away. Distant. He could hear him talking, but the words didn’t make any sense anymore. A shooting? Did that mean that he’d been shot? As Hijikata spoke, Saitou felt himself beginning to be lulled to sleep by the man’s voice.

Blast them for keeping him awake. _Just let him sleep._

As the paramedic over him spoke to Hijikata, Saitou’s eyes slipped closed. He felt more than heard Hijikata leave his side. The man rushed away from them, leaving the paramedic to gently try to wake him.

Saitou couldn’t tell him he was happy now. He couldn’t tell him that the pain was gone, that the cold had receded. That he was dreaming of his child in a beautiful home with a white picket fence, waiting for his lover to come home. He couldn’t tell him that across the street, Souji waved to him. Nor could he tell him that next door, Sano and Shinpachi argued together about what color they should paint Yukimura’s house for when she arrived.

He couldn’t tell him that he was finally at _peace_. 

* * *

 

 _Are you with me after all  
__Why can’t I hear you  
__Are you with me through it all_  
_Then why can’t I feel you_

* * *

 

Around Saitou’s body, chaos reigned. Hijikata, broken from the loss of so many friends at once, struggled to speak to the people around him. He could barely process what had happened. It was only after he moved away from carnage and sat on a chair that he could finally take a breath. 

Staring down at his hands covered in sanguine liquid, the ravenette suddenly began to scrub at them, wiping them _desperately_ on his clothing and on one another in and attempt to remove the stains of his friend’s blood.

Tears dripped from his eyes, falling to the ground and his arms. He finally broke. Shattered into a million pieces, he collapsed forward, sobbing into his knees, his hands moving to press behind his head, blocking out the sounds and the sight. There was nothing but him, in his own little world. 

No one approached him for several minutes, leaving him to the anguish and sorrow that tore at his body.

The only one who dare approach him was Kondou. The co-leader stepped up beside him, placing a hand on his back. When Hijikata lifted his head to look up at his friend, Kondou’s sad face greeted him. The older male stroked Hijikata’s hair back and knelt, taking hold of his hands, “We can’t let Amagiri find out what’s happened from some stranger, Toshi. We need to go to him. We need to do it now, right now. Before anyone else can talk to him about it. He needs to hear it from you.”

Hijikata nodded, hesitantly drawing himself to a stand. He stumbled slightly, but regained his footing, moving numbly out of the area.

He didn’t notice people trying to stop him. He didn’t notice the stares he got, the people offering him hugs and water to wash his arms with. He barely remembered getting in his car or the drive to Oni Inc. He didn’t remember parking, or walking up to Amagiri’s office. 

He stared at the doorknob for a moment before grasping it, smudging crimson across the polished metal, and turned it, pushing the door open. In front of him stood Kazama and Shiranui, and in the seat behind the desk sat Amagiri.

Kazama turned, sneering at him for a moment. Yet even he stopped, shocked into silence by the sanguine coloring marking Hijikata’s clothing, face and arms. Amagiri slowly stood, his hands gripping the edge of his desk, “Hijikata-san….”

Hijikata lifted his eyes to Amagiri’s face, tears freshly rolling down his face. He made to speak, but no words came out. He closed his mouth again. It was all that the redhead needed. He _knew_ what Hijikata was trying to say. The crunch of wood was all that could be heard after a moment, then a soft yelp from both Shiranui and Kazama broke the silence. Amagiri had gripped his desk and lifted it, tossing it to the side into the wall.

He stood, his shoulders heaving and shaking. Hijikata finally spoke, his voice raspy and torn. “There was a call. I… I didn’t want him to go, but they insisted on all of us. I didn’t know what was going to happen… We went… And there was an attack. There were shooters…. I can’t…. I don’t know how many there were. He…..”

Hijikata trailed off for a moment, losing the will to speak temporarily. Amagiri made no move, simply staring at the ground.

“He was… behind Souji. There was gunfire… And we all dove down. But they wouldn’t stop. They just…. kept… shooting. They kept pulling the trigger… He was… He was _covered_ …” Kazama, for the first time, lunged toward Hijikata as the ravenette’s legs gave out. He caught him, sinking to the floor with him and awkwardly holding him. Hijikata made no move to struggle away from him, far too distressed to even attempt it. Instead, he rested his head against the blonde’s shoulder, hands fixing in his shirt.

“He was covered in wounds… He looked so small when I got to him. I tried to keep him awake. I tried so fucking hard… I tried… I’m so sorry… **_I’m so fucking sorry_**.." 

Kazama looked up at Amagiri as Hijikata broke into sobs against his chest, breaking down once again. It was the first, and probably the only time that Hijikata ever showed weakness in front of the blonde. This wasn’t the time for rivalry, It wasn’t the time for jokes, or jests made at one another’s expense. For this, they set aside their differences.

Amagiri stared at the floor for a moment longer, then whirled, stalking across the room to his trashed desk. He sank his fists into it once more, then began to tear at the wood, breaking and splinter it. Throwing pieces about the office, the only sound from him was soft grunts and the sound of wood breaking and splitting.

It took a moment before he stopped, his fists and arms covered in bruises and cuts. Hijikata lifted his head, looking up at him. Amagiri’s face was covered in tears, the salty tracks dripping down his chin and onto his shirt. Hijikata shakily stood, gripping onto Kazama for help. He stumbled over to the redhead, gripping his arms gently and wrapping him in a hug. Amagiri didn’t move for the longest time. After a long period of silence, his arms wrapped around Hijikata’s frame, hugging him close.

“ _It wasn’t your fault, Hijikata-san…._ **_Don’t blame yourself_ ** _.._ ”

* * *

 

 _The sun begins to rise  
__And wash away the sky  
__The turning of the tide  
__Don’t leave it all behind  
__And I will never say goodbye  
__When angels fall with broken wings  
__I can’t give up, I can’t give in  
__When all is lost and daylight ends_  
_I’ll carry you and we will live forever, forever_

* * *

There, in the soft green grass, stood a grey marble slab, covered in flowers. Next to it, a similar grey slab stood, covered in candy offerings and prayer markers. Amagiri knelt, a fresh mix of white calla lilies, red chrysanthemums, yellow daffodils, gladiolus, white heather, hydrangea, statice and red, blue, white, and black roses. Perhaps he should have picked a smaller bundle. Yet he truly couldn’t bring himself to care how many flowers he brought. Settling on one knee, he placed the spread over the top of the larger slab. One hand pressed to the cold stone. It had been years. So many that once red hair had small blonde streaks in it, fading from a dark, rich auburn to pale blonde at the tips. 

Moving his hand to the slightly smaller slab, the male placed a second bundle of flowers on top, adjusting them to fall gracefully over the cold marble. The same hand pressed to the smooth surface briefly. He would no longer cry. The time for tears had come and gone. _It still hurt._ It stung like hell that the only person he had ever loved had been taken from him so suddenly. To lose so many that he cared about stung. Losing them all… Even the ones he hadn’t yet met. _The ones he loved the most_.

Standing, he dusted off his knee and leaned back, tilting his head down to survey the stones under him. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of peppered grey black hair and turned. There, he looked into violet eyes and bowed his head respectfully before turning and departing.

* * *

_Stay with me, don’t let me go_   
_Because there’s nothing left at all_   
_Stay with me, don’t let me go  
Until the Ashes of Eden fall_


End file.
